Also in Opinion

Subscribe to The Dispatch

Already a subscriber?
Enroll in EZPay and get a free gift!
Enroll now.

Sunday March 16, 2014 8:13 AM

I should have been doing something more productive when I succumbed to taking one of those
frivolous magazine quizzes. The objective was to determine to what degree you might put
electronics and accompanying social media ahead of, say, relationships with significant humans in
your life.

It was the first question that tempted me, made me feel smug,
confident I’d “pass” or even “ace” this one for sure.

That question (and I’m paraphrasing here) was: Which of the following are you most likely to do
first thing in the morning?

a. Update your Facebook page

b. Check Outlook for must-handle email and calendar

c. Refresh your Twitter timeline

d. Sit on the edge of the bed to collect your thoughts

I was clearly a “d” girl, I thought. I might tune in NPR in the first 20 minutes of
wakefulness, but any interaction with my email and social networking are decidedly preceded by a
bit of quietude and coffee.

The tingle of innocuous superiority made zipping through the other half dozen questions
irresistible.

Someone should concoct a quiz headlined “Are you a quiz junkie?” I’d certainly get an
A-plus Guilty as Charged ranking on that one. I take them all: Are you assertive or
aggressive? Are you an alcoholic? Do you have a sleep disorder? Which animal do
you most resemble? Or What is your romantic-attachment style?

I loved school. Maybe that’s why I’m such a quick self-help quiz taker. Or maybe I
just like the rush of feeling as though I earned a positive grade.

My inclination on the electronics quiz, at any rate, netted exactly the satisfaction
anticipated. I was not, the scoring guide informed me, exhibiting signs of addiction to
electronics or social media. I was in the healthy-balance camp. Self-congratulation was
in order.

And then my iPhone crashed.

I’m typically a late adopter of upgrades of any kind. After several months of
consideration, I decided this week to join the crowd and update my phone to iOS 7.1. A friend
who is much more knowledgeable offered to talk me through the update. He’s 600 miles away,
but talking via Skype is almost like being in the same room, and he gave me excellent step-by-step
instructions.

I backed up my phone, downloaded the update, and then tried to make the update occur.

I’ll spare you the next few hours of agony. Suffice to say my computer crashed and burned,
all messages pointed to factory defaults and my backup appeared to have vanished.

It was close to midnight, so I opted for the Scarlett O’Hara approach. Tomorrow I would
figure it out.

But sleeping was difficult.

What if my backup had really vanished? With an upcoming conference on the west coast, my
phone would be essential.

All the calls I needed to make, the text messages I haven’t yet answered, the professional
contacts who have been given no way to reach me other than my mobile phone.

And all those tasks attached to traveling that are dependent on various apps kept swirling
through my brain.

One app tells me how much light is in a room.

One tells me which bill in my wallet is a $20.

I have an app to tell me the color of a shirt, the contents of a package, if certain colleagues
are in the building, and whether or not I’m standing in front of a coffee shop.

There are my books and my music and my calendar and — how will I set an alarm?

But wait!

My quiz score said I am not obsessed with electronics or social media. I am in the wise
camp that values relationships to humans more than gadgets.

But, argues my competitive quiz-taking self, I depend on this “gadget” for productivity and
accessibility.

Even my competitive self, though, has a persistent compulsion to be honest.

Anxiety over an iPhone is not a disability-related issue. Identifying light and color and
money and finding my friends and colleagues were all tasks accomplished before the iPhone was
born. And they are probably tasks that could be managed again without apps.

Am I addicted to technology? Tethered to social media?

To prove to myself that my quiz score was accurate, I wrote this column before returning to the
iPhone crisis.

If there’s a message worth celebrating here, I suppose it is that with accessibility of
mainstream products and services comes equal opportunity, for people with or without disability, to
develop addiction or dependency.

Is that a good thing?

If I succeed in restoring my phone, I’ll ask Siri what she thinks!

Deborah Kendrick is a Cincinnati writer and advocate for people with disabilities.